


my flower

by rahmiel



Category: Naruto
Genre: Bottom Rock Lee, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Female Reader, Femdom, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 16:02:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18720373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rahmiel/pseuds/rahmiel
Summary: And so, the routine repeats itself this time, too.





	my flower

The shower runs, a steady hum of white noise filling the apartment. It's a late summer afternoon and the shadows have just started stretching, following the lines of the aloe potted right next to the window. You put out your cigarette, tasting smoke and blueberry, and you sigh deeply. 

Another mission, another return home. Lee's safe, scrubbing away the dirt on him, and relief blooms in your chest. 

Between you, a routine had fallen into place. It was sometime after he got too busy with Jounin assignments to continue helping you with taijutsu training: he'd come back from a mission, the two of you would grab food and go to your apartment, where he'd tell you as much as he could. Through it all, his smile never faded, even when he was exhausted and bruised. Lee never had a bad word for your messiness, the way you left clothes and bandages strewn across every room. In return, you patched him up—still patch him up when he needs to be taken care of—and at one point, your touch on his wrapped arm had lingered too long. 

You'd slid your fingers until they'd circled his wrist, looked up at him where his gaze was focused intently on your face. His grin had been gone, replaced instead with a focused expression burning into your eyes, and a flame had lit up inside of you. Before, you'd never seen him like that—like a  _ man,  _ hadn't even considered it—but it was hard to deny his attractiveness, his taut muscle and lithe form. 

Lee is powerful but always, always so gentle. You remember every tentative touch of his, because you've been fucking him ever since. 

That's your routine—he comes back from a mission, you talk about it, then you have sex—it's safe and comforting, and it's been going on for a year. You don't know how you made it this far in your life without it. 

And so, the routine repeats itself this time, too. 

Lee exits the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist and droplets sparkling on his chest. You eye him in appreciation as he grins, but the sight is spoiled by the bruise blooming on the left side of his abdomen.  _ Left side, left, thankfully,  _ you think to yourself as you get up and throw the extinguished butt of the cigarette in the trash. No vital organs hit. 

It's a shame that you grew so fond of him, but it had happened nonetheless—inevitably, even, as the knowledge that you are the only one to see Lee come undone makes his presence all the sweeter. 

Even the mere  _ thought _ of him being put in danger has you stalking towards him in quick strides, gripping his biceps hard and pulling him down until you're face to face, his thick brows furrowed and framing his face into an expression of confusion. 

"What is it, my flower?" he asks, and you smell fresh mint on his breath. 

"You know what it is," you say, pulling closer still, until your noses bump and one hand of his comes up to cup your face. 

Lee sighs, "Yes. I know." He kisses the place where jaw meets neck, and then, "I missed you too."

You close your eyes, breathe in some more of his scent, and pull away. His head follows you, searching for a kiss, but you won't give it to him yet. "Go to the bedroom," you command, "and rid yourself of that towel."

He grins, all teeth, sharp and almost daring now. Lee lingers for a moment, watching you pick up the ashtray and the cup you'd left on the table and place them in the sink. Then he retreats into the other room, leaving the door open behind him. 

A curl of anger and resentment licks up your throat, and you know it isn't his fault that danger seems to find him wherever he goes. You shouldn't punish him for being unable to use chakra—it doesn't make him weaker as a whole, but more susceptible to attacks anyway. You shouldn't punish him, but you will, because you know he likes it too. 

You shower and make him wait for you while you relax under the stream of water, washing off the sweat of the day; it doesn't matter, since you'll be sweating again in no time, but you want to smell good for him. He likes the fresh citrus scent as much as you do. The cool washcloth is pleasant on your neck and then your breasts and you're already getting turned on thinking about what's going to transpire. 

Not bothering to take the towel with you, you enter the bedroom and the sight of Lee spreading himself open greets you. He's gorgeous, head thrown back and eyes scrunched closed, legs wide apart and bent at the knees. You have full view of the flush that spreads on Lee's tan skin, from his cheekbones to the middle of his chest. 

"Who told you to start without me?" you ask, accusing, as you come close and run a hand over his chest. He has stubble there, where he's shaved, and you resist the urge to lick a stripe along it. 

Lee huffs and whines at your touch, forehead shining with sweat as he works himself with his fingers. His cock is glistening with precum, the head red and swollen. "Wanted to get–," another sigh, "–ready for you. Couldn't—couldn't wait."

You can feel yourself heating at those words, the knowledge that he wants and is  _ yours  _ almost too good to be true. The bed shifts under your weight and you position yourself above him, straddling his chest, and he moans. He must feel how wet you are just from seeing him like this, and you rock gently, only once, before leaning down to catch his lips in a bruising kiss. 

At some point during it you must have leaned to the right side, because you feel him wince at the pain that must shoot through him when you inadvertently press on his fresh bruise. You pull back and eye him critically, pressing there with your fingers for good measure, a cruel smile curling on your lips. Lee bites his lip and thrusts up. You're having none of that. 

Getting up in one swift stride, you move to the nightstand, where your strap-on is; with deft hands you put the harness on as Lee watches you hungrily. After, you position yourself between his legs and when he pulls his hand back, it slides out with an obscene  _ pop.  _ You don't even need to coat your fingers with lube because he's so wet for you already. 

Two, then three fingers slide in easily, and he's started pushing himself down on your hand, but you smack his balls and he grunts, halting movement. You scissor your fingers, exploring. It has been more than three weeks since you've seen each other, and you intend to draw every moment out until he's keening and begging to be fucked. By the looks of it, though, it won't take long at all. 

"I'm going to fuck you now, Lee," you say, and he says your name on a moan. "What was that?" you preen, "I didn't hear you."

_ "Please,  _ I want it, I need you," Lee says, his thighs shaking as you curl your fingers and rub against his prostate. You grin and relent, positioning yourself with the head of the dildo just brushing against his stretched hole. 

"Lift your legs up, up—yes, that's right," you say as he puts his calves on your shoulders. "Look at me."

He meets your gaze and somehow finds a smile for you, even as he looks utterly debauched and ready to burst into tears from frustration. You haven't touched his cock yet and you hold it in good faith that he hasn't touched it either. The only one allowed to do that is you, and you aren't feeling gracious yet. 

Uncapping the bottle of lube Lee's previously discarded on the bed, you squeeze it from above and let it drip on the strap and his ass, too. You watch as he clenches around nothing, and the sight is almost enough to make you ram into him, but you don't. Tossing the bottle aside, you rub a hand over the black dildo, slicking it up. You don't want to hurt him—he has training tomorrow. 

A steady string of obscenities falls from Lee's mouth as he begs for you, wonderfully unlike the purity he displays everywhere else. You smile fondly down at him and finally push, breaching his hole. His hands fist the sheets as he tries not to ram himself on the strap and his flush deepens to a dark red. 

Slowly, with the intent to drive him mad with lust, you edge further inside. The angle allows you to get a firm grip on his hips and drive deep inside of him, and once you've pushed the dildo to its hilt you give him a moment to compose himself.

Lee's chest is heaving and there are tears on the corners of his eyes. His jaw clasps and unclasps; one moment he's squeezing it, the next it hangs wide open. 

"Did you miss me, baby?" you purr, and he whines. "How was it, being all alone on that mission? I bet you ached for me," you say as you start moving. You watch Lee nod frantically, feel his muscles bunch under you. He can own you, switch your positions so easily, he's that much stronger; but you know he won't. 

Early on, the two of you had established that Lee wanted to be taken care of. He wanted to be fucked and made to beg, whimper—it had taken a while to realise, as no one had bothered to have sex with Lee before. But when you'd found out, the dynamic had been set into place, and you wouldn't change it for the world. 

"Fuck me," he says, "I missed you so much, I missed you inside me, I'm not me without you–", he breaks off. 

Lee's awfully romantic when you get intimate, but you don't mind his cheesy lines at all. The way they sound when he's out of breath gives them meaning and grounds you, helps you find purchase against the slippery slope of your feelings. Lee makes you feel like it's okay to care. 

Overcome with a rush of affection, you start fucking him more earnestly. This isn't about you, it's about him, helping him feel good and unwind after his mission. With the palm of your hand, you rub against the head of his dick and it twitches, beads of precum rolling down the shaft. Lee's moans are going high pitched. 

A drop of sweat rolls down your forehead and hangs on your nose before it drips down on Lee below you. The room is stuffy and in the silence, the only sounds heard are the creaking of the bed, the slap of skin on skin, the squelching of Lee's ass being pounded and his incomprehensible babbling. 

One of his hands has moved to tug at his hair, and you take the hint. You pull out and push at his hip, getting him to turn and position himself on his knees. Sliding back in, you take a fistful of hair and  _ pull.  _

Lee's elbows give out under him, and he buries his face in the mattress, ass in the air as you fuck him, the tug on his hair made all the harsher with it. It's lovely, silky smooth under your fingers and still damp from his shower. Shame you got lube on it; both of you'll have to wash again after this is done. At the moment, though, you couldn't care less, as Lee is getting closer and closer to the edge. 

When he gets there, whining and warning you, you decide to torture him. Knowing that he won't cum if you do so, you pull out. You can see his hole and his cock twitching as he yells into the sheets. It must feel incredibly frustrating, and it fills you with joy to see him so wrecked. Losing control, he spreads his legs until he's low enough for his cock to touch the sheets, and he starts rutting against them. As lovely as the sight is, you're not done with him yet. 

"Stop!" you hiss, and with what's likely tremendous effort, Lee halts his movement. He turns to look at you and there are tears in his eyes, his gaze pleading.

High pitched and shaking, Lee's voice is low. "Please, let me cum. Let me cum," he repeats, over and over. You move closer and command him to get back into position. When he does, you grab his dick and slowly, maddeningly tug at it. The way it twitches sends a shock of lust straight to your groin. You're dripping wet just from seeing your Lee like this. 

"You want to cum, baby? You want to cum while I fuck you, or with my hand on your dick?" you taunt in a mocking voice, but there's love behind it all the same. You'll always let him choose how far he wants to go. 

"Your h-hand, please," Lee says. 

You start rubbing his cock and tugging his balls periodically, and soon his thighs have started shaking. You know he's nearing his limit, and you pick up the pace. 

"Close, Lee?" 

"Yes! God, yes," he moans, breathless, "please don't stop, don't stop, don't stop–"

Finding their way back to his ass, the fingers of your hand currently not occupied giving a handjob press back inside of him and find Lee's prostate. You rub there once, twice, five times, and then Lee's back arches. 

The curl of his toes is visible and from his throat, a parched moan rips out, Lee howling your name as the orgasm hits him. You take him through it, milking every last drop out, watching him start to squirm and writhe from overstimulation. With a final tug and a kiss on his hip, you pull away. 

His cum has stained the sheets amazingly; you'll have to replace them as soon as you get the wet throb between your legs taken care of. 

Lee sighs, turns to lie on his back, spreads his arms. "My flower, you are amazing. Come here, it's my turn to take care of you."

You climb onto him and let him lick you open, his tongue skilled and knowing. 

As you ride your high, you can't help but think how lucky you are that you have Lee in your life.  It's a blessing of the grandest proportions. 


End file.
